Brave the Storm-HighlanderPrincess
by The Pick-A-Prompt Contest
Summary: When Edward feels worthless, he starts up his computer. He has never had much to offer anyone. His skills, talents, along with his intelligence have seemed utterly mediocre to him. He's watched others succeed from the confines of his apartment, behind the glow of his computer screen. He stares at snapshots of people's lives, wondering if they ever feel as lost as he does.


**2018 TFN Pick-A-Prompt Contest**

 **Title:** Brave the Storm

 **Paring:** E/B

 **Disclaimer:** Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copy right to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Prompt Quote: When I feel worthless, I search "suicide" on Tumblr and tell strangers that even if I don't know them, I love them, and I don't want them to die.**

 **Summary** : When Edward feels worthless, he starts up his computer. He has never had much to offer anyone. His skills, talents, along with his intelligence have seemed utterly mediocre to him. He's watched others succeed from the confines of his apartment, behind the glow of his computer screen. He stares at snapshots of people's lives, wondering if they ever feel as lost as he does. There's only one thing that makes Edward feel better-only one thing that makes his existence feel less useless.

The scream of his teapot pulls him from his thoughts. He moves away from his computer as it starts up and ventures off to the kitchen to pour a cup of his favorite Earl Grey. Turning off the burner, he pauses for a moment, wondering who he'll find to talk to today. Is it sad that the highlight of his days is talking to strangers online? Sometimes, he believes so. Although, he's aware of the service he's providing. These people are in a dark place, a place where they feel absolutely helpless. Talking to them gives his life a shred of purpose. For a moment, he feels like he has something to offer. He pours a cup of tea before heading back to the computer to load Tumblr.

He searches the self-harm pages until he finds someone on a thread with whom he feels a connection. Of course, it's not the type of connection one would feel by meeting someone in person, but it's a connection, nonetheless. It's as if someone is standing over his shoulder and whispering in his ear who exactly he should choose. Edward hovers over the user name for a moment, trying to sense if this is the one for tonight. He finds a page for a girl with the user name, "brave-the-St0rm" and pauses. Her page is black, and Moonlight Sonata plays on a loop.

The photographs on her page are what really move him. They represent this girl's pain more than any words could. For a moment, he feels as if he's peering into her soul, a part of her life she keeps locked away from the eyes of many. He scrolls through the pages, wondering when this girl's pain began. There are so many pictures that beg the question, "What the hell is wrong with me?" He feels his chest grow heavy, just as it always does when he's faced with such pain. Could he help this girl like he's helped so many others? Is there any chance to save her from herself? That's the part that scares him the most. Their biggest demon is themselves, the person they look at in the mirror each and every day. He can't begin to imagine what it's like to not be able to trust yourself, to not be able to trust your own mind from not hurting you.

He reads "brave-the-Storm's" biography, and a chill runs down his spine at her words. She's 18 years old, five years younger than him, and has manic depression, paranoia, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies. He understands where she's coming from. He understands everything. He, himself, was in that position when he was younger. He recalls hiding a knife under his bed like it was yesterday. He used to keep it there "just in case" he got the urge to harm himself. He stares down at his scars for a moment, before pulling his long sleeve down to hide the small reminders of his past.

"I just feel very empty. I'm not here anymore and I don't know where I went," her page reads. Before he can stop himself, he adds her and reaches out. He wonders if she'll consider this an intrusion. It's obvious that she's a 'suffer in silence' type, but he can't help himself. As he stares at the profile picture of her torso which cuts off just above her lips, he feels the need to talk to her. She's so young, too young to think about death; although, he thought about death constantly when he was her age and much younger.

His fingers move across his keyboard and his purpose is clear. She needs to talk to someone. He knows how it feels to have no one to reach out to all too well. He reads over his message, making sure that it appears friendly enough, before he presses send.

She responds within seconds. "U don't know me. Ok? I'm going nowhere. I'm sick of this. What do U think ur going 2 do? Talk me down?"

Edward hesitates for a moment, surprised by her hostility. In this moment, he knows that he can't give up on this young woman. Through the hostility, he can see her pain. It's easier to be angry at the world than to let yourself experience the hurt that flows inside of you.

"I know I don't know you. I just wanted you to know that I understand, we're one and the same," Edward quickly responds, pressing send without hesitation.

She shoots back just as quickly. "How r we the same?"

He pauses for a moment, wondering how much he wants to reveal about himself tonight. He could tell her everything, and then she would understand. He usually doesn't open up completely to anyone. Usually, there's a dark corner of him that he hides away from everyone. If anyone knew about his past, knew about the dark thoughts that would linger in his mind, they would look at him differently. It took a long time for him to accept that it was really _him_ thinking those things. Sometimes, he barely knew himself. He wasn't acquainted very well with his dark passenger—that dark corner of him that ate away at his sanity. That voice that told him he was no good and that it would be so much easier for him to end it all. _Who would miss you?_ That little voice would always whisper.

Now, he's conquered his demons. Well, most of them. There's still a part of him that struggles with that dark corner of his mind, but now, he feels like he has more control over it. More control over himself. He'll never feel completely well, he knows that. No matter what medication he's on, or how many days a week he sees a therapist, he knows that his depression will always be a part of him. That's why he does this. It's therapeutic for him just like it could be therapeutic for others.

"I came across your profile and I understand you. I've been there before. Hell, I'm still in that dark place sometimes now. I know every now and then it's nice to just have someone to talk to."

She doesn't message Edward back right away. While he waits, he looks through her Tumblr account and prays that she's reach out to him. He's not planning on harassing her or trying to give her the advice so many people who aren't suffering from depression do. While they mean well, some people just don't understand what depression is like. They think you can just "get better" and advise people to work on becoming "more optimistic." What they don't understand is that depression is not just sadness. It's feeling absolutely nothing, absolutely numb. It's feeling like you don't want to get out of bed in the morning, like there's no point in your existence. It's feeling like dying would be so much easier than continuing with life. It's not just feeling sad all the time. It's feeling empty, worthless, and lost. Depression is different for everyone, but it seems that you can't quite understand it unless you've dealt with it yourself or have loved someone who's dealing with it.

"No 1 understands me."

Edward stares at her response for a long moment, wondering what he should say. His mind is riddled with possibilities, but he's not sure which one is the right move. He takes a deep breath, knowing that he's over-thinking this. He has to go with his gut, just like he always does. Although, this conversation doesn't feel like one of his others on Tumblr. This one feels different already. It's started out the same way as others have, but there's just something about this girl that speaks to him. Something about her that makes him feel like he's known her his entire life. Which is crazy, considering he's never even heard her voice-he's never seen her face.

"I understand you. I've looked at your blog and it spoke to me because I understand what you're feeling. I understand where you're coming from."

While he's waiting for her response, he quickly questions, "What's your name?"

"How could u understand? U don't know what I've been through."

"I've been through a lot, too," Edward quickly writes back. "I used to want to kill myself. I used to keep a knife in my room when I was younger, just in case the urge became too much, and I wanted to end it all. On your page, you said that you didn't know yourself anymore. I felt that way, too. I would barely recognize myself when I looked in the mirror because I was in such a dark place."

"It hasn't always been like this," she responds. "But it's gotten worse. Much worse."

"What's your name?" Edward asks again.

"Bella."

A beautiful name for such a troubled, beautiful girl.

"I'm Edward," he quickly responds. "See, now we're not strangers."

"I guess not."

"Even if you feel horrible, Bella; you have to know that this is not the end. You can fight this feeling," Edward encourages, hoping his words will break through her barrier.

Some of her most recent posts talk about suicide, romanticizing it as the solution to all of her problems. She has poems that speak of death, pictures of graves with captions that explain that these people have been released from their pain, along with quotes that make suicide seem like the best option. It's not. Edward knows that all too well. He's lost family members to depression. Hell, he almost lost himself as well. He remembers that night when he swallowed a bottle of his mom's painkillers before locking himself in his room. His father knocked down the door and carried him out to the car. Edward had been disoriented and near death, but he remembers his parents' screams all too well. He woke up to find his little sister at his bedside in the hospital, holding his hand, her small, angelic face completely aghast.

"I don't want to."

"You don't want to what? Fight?"

Edward sits back, takes a long drink of his now cold tea and waits for her response.

"I can't fight anymore."

"Yes you can, Bella." He hopes the way he uses her name so casually helps her to trust him. He wants to sound like her friend, someone who cares about her, because despite never having met her, he does truly care. He wants to see her live a long and happy life. He wants to know that this is not the end for her.

"I'm so tired."

"Life isn't easy, Bella. It never is and it never will be. But we must fight, that's how we know we're still alive."

Fighting was the one thing that kept Edward going. Every day that he wakes up, he fights. He fights his depression, and he fights the voices that tell him that he's not good enough, he fights the desire to allow the world to just eat him alive. Fighting isn't easy, but if he believes that if he's not fighting, he's dead. And dead is no longer something he desires to be.

"I have no one."

His heart drops as he reads her words. "You have me."

"I wanted to end it tonight."

Thank God he reached out to her. What if he hadn't? He can imagine her now, sitting in front of her computer in a dark room all alone. Wondering when her pain will end, or if it will _ever_ end. He wishes he could be there to comfort her and make her realize that this pain can pass. It will never go away, but it will be something that can be controlled. If Bella died… well, it would break his heart. He feels for her, because he's been there himself. He couldn't save his uncle, he couldn't save two of his cousins, but maybe, just maybe he can save her. Maybe he can make her change her mind.

"Do you still want to?"

"IDK."

"Bella, consider all the people in your life who love you. Think of all the people who would miss you if you were gone."

"No one would miss me."

"How can you know that?"

"No one loves me."

"Bella, there are people who love you" he immediately responds. She must have parents. She must have someone who loves her. If not, she has him, and he could love her. One human being to another, he could love her.

"I don't have anyone."

"You have me."

"**snort**."

He smiles at her playful response. God, he wishes he could be next to her right now so he would know for sure that she wouldn't do anything rash. She's so young, with the whole world ahead of her, she can't end things now. His cousin, Felix, was only 14 years old when he ended his life. His mother found him dead in his closet. He died of asphyxiation and Edward had been at his funeral. Edward had been 18 at the time, and as he looked at his cousin's body, he remembered all the times he considered doing the same thing himself.

"You do have me, Bella. I'm your friend."

"U don't know me."

"I do know you, Bella. I may not know you personally, but I understand you, because you and I are the same, Bella."

She doesn't respond for a long time, and for a moment, Edward wonders if she ever will. As the minutes tick by, he grows worried.

"Sometimes I just want go to bed, take some pills, and see what comes afterward," she finally responds.

Edward stares at the computer screen in horror. He remembers being in that exact same position. Tears prick his eyes as he reaches up and roughly rubs the tension out of his clenched jaw. He can't let her do that. He can't imagine what it would feel like to know that she had died.

"Bella, I did that myself, and trust me, you don't want to go there. Just keep talking to me. I'm your friend and I would miss you if you were gone."

"How can you miss me if you don't know me?" she shoots back.

"Like I said before, you and I are the same, Bella. I care for you."

"Ur the only one who does then."

"I'm lucky to be your friend, Bella," Edward writes back honestly. He is lucky. She has the whole world ahead of her, so much life left to live, and he'll be damned if she chooses to end it primitively. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship, if she opens up to him. He can't make her reach out; she'll have to desire to do that herself. And maybe with his help, one day, she'll open up. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Maybe he believes himself to be more powerful than he is in reality. He always reaches these moments of self-doubt, where he wonders if he actually is successful in reaching out to anyone. Of course, those moments pass as soon as he realizes that he's doing the right thing. Some people just need someone to listen to them—someone to care. Bella needs him, and he needs her. She needs to open up and tell her story as much as he needs to tell her his. She makes him feel for a sliver of time, he's not completely worthless.

He works in an office, spending the majority of his day doing paperwork, so it's nice for once, to feel useful. When he's communicating with a stranger, he truly feels alive. But, Bella isn't a stranger anymore. He can't ignore the connection he feels to the young woman. He couldn't imagine what that connection would feel life if he ever met her in real life. Not that he _needs_ to meet her in person to care about her. Their entire friendship could exist online and he would be more than okay with that.

"Thank you, Edward," she finally messages back. "I needed 2 hear that."

Edward can't help but ask, "What did you mean that you don't have anyone in your life that cares for you?"

"No one understands me. My parents don't want me. I don't have any friends. I can't stand myself."

Edward's heart sinks. "Why can't you stand yourself? I'm your friend and I like you very much, Bella."

There's another long pause, before she finally responds with, "I'm not good. I'm not good for anyone."

"You're good for me."

"Am I? U don't know me."

"Like I said, I know you because you're so much like me, Bella. You might not like yourself, but I like you. You have someone who really cares about you now."

Another long pause. "Can we talk on the phone? I want to hear ur voice."

He smiles at this. He wants to hear her voice, too. He quickly messages her with his number and watches his phone as he waits for it to ring. When it begins to vibrate, his entire spirit lifts. Maybe he truly has helped this girl. Which is amazing in itself, but now he could have a friend in her as well.

"Bella?"

"Hello?" He hears a sweet voice ask as soon as he picks up the phone.

He hears her soft breath on her end of the call and it takes his breath away. She sounds so sweet. There's something about her voice that draws him in even more than messaging her online.

"Yes, it's me."

"It's nice to hear your voice."

"It's nice to hear yours, too."

Edward can hear the smile in her voice, and it's so sweet that it makes his heart hurt.

"So, are we friends now, Bella?"

"I want to be."

"Good, because I was being serious when I said I cared about you."

"I care about you, too," she responds in a soft, sweet voice. "And, Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."


End file.
